


Woman Like That

by moonstruckbucky



Series: The Billy Hargrove Chronicles [14]
Category: Stranger Things - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 21:26:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18533476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonstruckbucky/pseuds/moonstruckbucky
Summary: Billy wants a girl he can’t have.





	Woman Like That

Billy was in a habit of getting exactly what he wanted, and what he wanted was a girl underneath him almost every night, a moaning mess of tangled limbs and flushed skin. Since arriving in the shithole that was Hawkins, Billy had managed to land a date with nearly every girl in his grade or the year above at Hawkins High, except for three.

Nancy Wheeler, because even a night with Billy wouldn’t get her to unwind.

Carol, because even though Tommy was a douche with a big mouth, he still wouldn’t do that to him, one of the first friends he made.

And you, because you were already dating the school’s star wide receiver.

It was laughingly cliche, despite the fact that you weren’t a cheerleader. Far from it, actually. You weren’t prissy or stuck up, and you didn’t wear your hair in an extremely tight ponytail. You were normal, dressed in jeans and sweaters, and kind. Billy didn’t think he’d ever seen you get angry or annoyed with anyone, while he was angry with  _everything_. 

You had nothing but kind words for him on the few instances your paths crossed. You shared a couple classes together, were paired up for group projects every so often, and even being aware of Billy’s reputation, you were still nothing but polite and even pleasant to him.

How could he not be attracted to you?

What surprised Billy, even more than his honest attraction to  _you_  as a person and not just your looks, was the fact that he didn’t make any moves on you. Knowing you were dating a football player made him cautious. Billy was a douchebag, but he wasn’t stupid. He kept his distance in terms of flirtatious remarks, opting instead for riveting conversation on subjects Billy kept to himself.

Such as astronomy and American history.

Talking with you during breaks in class or even sometimes at lunch when he could catch you without Alex keeping you to himself gave Billy an unfamiliar sense of calm. He didn’t have to feel embarrassed over being smart. With Tommy, he dumbed it down a bit, played up the attitude that he didn’t care about school.

With you, it was different. With you, he could shed that image like a snake shed its skin, leaving him feeling refreshed and like a new person.

Alex wasn’t too impressed with Billy’s friendship with you, often pinning him with a territorial glare if the other boy ventured too close. You were headstrong, though, and made sure that Alex didn’t threaten your friendship, insisting that that’s all Billy was. A friend.

It stung, but it was the unfortunate truth, and it sent Billy into a downward spiral of confusion.

He wasn’t used to having a girl as just a friend, unless he counted Carol which, quite frankly, he didn’t. Carol was just….Carol. They didn’t talk like you and Billy did, and so Carol was nowhere near your level. He never talked to his dates except for boring small talk. How did he like Hawkins and what was California like. Questions he had to try really hard not to roll his eyes to because, really, could these be any more boring?

Most of them hadn’t been once he’d gotten them between the sheets or in the backseat of his car. He didn’t think Hawkins girls would’ve had that kind of flare in them, but many of them did. Billy never went back for seconds though, as much as he thought about it. The only one he’d want writhing under him every night was you, and it didn’t look like he’d be getting his way anytime soon.

As much as it pained Billy to do so, he talked about your relationship with you. Occasionally, you and Alex would have an argument, and you’d come to Billy asking for a guy’s perspective, and he’d surprised himself by being honest with you, encouraging you to just talk to Alex and tell him your feelings.

“Guys aren’t mind readers,” was what he’d said to you. “You need to basically spell it out for us. Especially Alex since I know he can’t spell for shit.”

He was befuddled when you let him get away with making fun of your boyfriend, and it ignited a small spark of hope in his chest that things weren’t all sunshine and rainbows between you, that things might be on the outs. 

Yet you never came to him with the news that you and Alex had broken up, that Billy could pursue you as a girlfriend and stop being just a friend.

Billy wondered if Alex was ever onto him, if he was as bad at hiding his feelings as he thought he was. But the football star never said anything to Billy directly, just gave him a glare whenever you laughed at one of Billy’s jokes or even paid him the smallest bit of kindest.

Yeah, Alex probably knew.

So why hadn’t he said anything? It made Billy paranoid, made him cautious, and it made him work harder to conceal his feelings for you.

The only way he knew how to do that was to push you away. He stopped saying hi to you in the hallways, stopped listening when you tried to pull him into a discussion over the Civil War, and he even snapped at you when you tried to tell him something stupid Alex had done over the weekend.

“I don’t give a shit about your boyfriend, Y/N,” he growled, pinning you with the harshest glare he could muster. He swallowed thickly when you flinched and your eyes shined with hurt.

“O-Okay then.” Your voice was small, barely a whimper, and you turned around to go back to your classwork. Billy felt like shit for the rest of the day.

He had to keep you at arms’ length, though. You’d already gotten far too close, and he was only setting himself up for heartbreak. You stopped initiating conversation with him after that day he snapped at you, stopped greeting him in the hallway. Your eyes would meet his for a brief moment before they darted away, and every time it drove the knife in his heart just that much deeper.

He felt empty without you, but he couldn’t have you, and that hurt worst of all.

It was February vacation, and Tina was throwing a Valentine’s Day party. Billy had no intention of attending, but then he got word that you were going, and he just couldn’t resist the torturous temptation of seeing you let loose. Plus, Tina herself had asked him to go, and even though it broke his rule of sleeping with a girl more than once, he needed a distraction from you, and Tina could take it.

Her house was decorated in shades of red, pink, and white, streamers hanging from the ceiling and shiny paper hearts taped along the walls. She had red Hershey kisses in a heart-shaped bowl by the front door and her party mixtape was playing loudly through the stereo system in the living room.

Billy showed up fashionably late, wearing a white button-up with half its buttons undone, and his signature leather jacket. Tina, in her baby pink dress, couldn’t take her eyes off him as he sauntered over to her, giving her a smirk that had her swooning. She handed him a can of beer, smiling coyly beneath her false eyelashes. Normally that kind of look would have him half-hard in his jeans, but tonight, it just made him want to disappear.

But he played it up, played his part of aloof bad boy. He mingled with some people, broke his own record on the keg stand, and tried to not care when you walked in in a gorgeous deep red sweater dress and black boots, looking like sin despite the innocent look on your face. His hand tightened around his beer bottle and he averted his eyes before you could see him watching you.

Instead, he curled an arm around Tina as she prattled on to one of her friends. She leaned into him, and Billy had to try hard to not imagine you in her place. You were across the party, a red cup in your hand as you laid across Alex’s lap. You were laughing at something a friend said, your eyes squeezing shut and mouth open wide. He could hear it clear across the room and he felt his chest tighten.

Then your eyes found his and he felt as if the world stopped. Your smile dropped but you didn’t look away for what seemed like a lifetime. Billy felt small under the intensity of your eyes, but he couldn’t make himself turn away, couldn’t make himself shut you out again. You were the one to break the contact, as Alex nudged your shoulder where his arm was slung over it.

You looked down at him, but his eyes followed the path yours had taken and his jaw clenched, arm tightening instinctively, possessively.

“God, him again?” he snarled, tipping back his beer. “Can’t he crash someone else’s party?”

“He’s not doing anything, babe,” you told him gently. You ran your fingers through his hair in an effort to calm his rising temper. “Leave him be.”

“Why are you always defending him?” he snapped, jerking out of your hold. You felt your heart clench and sighed.

“I’m not. I’m just…. We came to have fun tonight, so let’s do that okay? I don’t want to fight.”

Alex remained quiet but tense the entire night, and he didn’t put his arm around you again. He was in a mood now; you’d been together long enough to recognize it. He sat stiffly on the couch, only seemed to relax when you stood up to refill your drink. You didn’t offer to refill his, figuring he probably shouldn’t get drunk. He could get mean when intoxicated and you had run out of patience for it a long time ago.

The kitchen was crowded as you weaved between people. Not bothering with the ladle in the bowl of punch, you instead dunked your cup and chugged half of whatever had been concocted. It tasted no better than gasoline, but you could already feel it warming your insides.

“Easy there, killer.”

You froze with your cup halfway to the bowl, eyes sliding to your left to see Billy leaning against the counter beside you. His gaze was guarded, his posture stiff. He looked every bit uncomfortable standing next to you, and you, quite frankly, were faring no better.

Billy wasn’t sure what made him approach you in the kitchen. Perhaps it was the pinched, impatient expression on your face or the fact that he just missed you. But now he was next to you and you were looking at him like you’d rather be anywhere else.

He supposed he deserved that.

“Billy.” Your tone was flat, devoid of any former happiness that used to make his heart sing. He frowned and shifted his weight.

“You, um, you look great,” he mumbled, the compliment sitting awkward on his tongue. He reached up to scratch the back of his neck, hoping it’d be enough to take that look out of your eyes.

It didn’t. Instead, they rolled. “Don’t do that, Billy.”

“Do what?” he asked fearfully. You gave him an irritated glance.

“Act like we’re friends. We aren’t.”

“We used to be,” he muttered.  _Because of him._

You said as much. “Because you decided you didn’t want to be anymore. So we’re not. And you don’t get to stay things like that to me.”

Billy sighed and dropped his head. He knew, he knew he shouldn’t have any right to say anything to you after he so callously pushed you away, pushed your friendship away. With a quick resigned nod, he picked up a fresh beer and moved to turn away.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he heard himself say before he could rethink it. “Just….felt like you should know that.”

You stared down into your cup as Billy blended back into the crowd, set on getting himself plastered and laid and knowing he’d deserve every bit of a killer hangover come tomorrow. You stayed in the kitchen for a while, were pulled into a conversation with one of your classmates about the football team’s chances of making it to state.

It was some time and two more cups of that unknown concoction later that the sound of shouting erupted from the living room. Exchanging confused glances with the girls around you, all of you headed towards the sounds of the scuffle, lured in by the chanting, yelling, and shattering glass as whoever was fighting went straight through the sliding glass door.

Your heart leaped into your throat when you recognized Alex’s signature letterman jacket and Billy’s leather one as they grappled with one another, throwing and landing punches. Billy’s nose was bleeding when you moved closer, and Alex was sporting a black eye that you hadn’t yet seen. Instinct drove you forward and you yanked on Alex’s jacket as he turned his back to you.

A harsh sting exploded through the side of your face and you let him go to cradle your injured cheek. Silence fell over the crowd and Billy was the first one to notice you, noticed the way you held your face and glared maliciously up at Alex. The football star turned, enraged expression morphing into one of shock and regret.

“Oh my god….Babe….” He reached forward with both hands in an attempt to see the damage, but you jerked your head away from him. Billy felt his hands clench at his sides as he took in the redness of your cheek, a small cut from Alex’s class ring marring the flawless complexion. 

“What the fuck is  _wrong_  with you?!” you howled. A few people in the crowd flinched at both the volume and the intensity of your voice, taking a couple steps back to give the three of you room. “I leave you alone for five minutes and you start a goddamn fight! You better explain yourself, right now, Alex, or so help me….”

Alex stuttered, mouth flapping before an enraged expression darkened his features.

“’Nothing to worry about’, huh?” he snarled, keeping you frozen in your place with the intensity of his glare. In response, you tilted your head and scrunched up your face in confusion.

“What the hell are you talking about, Alex? How drunk are you?”

You ignored the growing crowd behind you, ignored Billy as he wiped a hand under his bleeding nose and smeared it over his cheek inadvertently. Your confusion only mounted when Alex swung an arm backwards, gesturing to the other boy, whose eyes were bouncing wildly between the couple arguing in front of him.

“I’m sober enough to know your little  _side piece_  doesn’t know how to stay away from someone’s girl!”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Okay, now I  _know_  you’re hammered because I have legitimately no idea what you’re talking about.”

Alex groaned, clapping his hands to his face and dragging them down, as if it was such a hassle to explain it to you. “He’s  _into you_ , Y/N. Goddammit. It’s so obvious!”

You stiffened, shoulders straightening as your eyes automatically found Billy. But he wasn’t looking at you; he was looking off to the side, glaring a hole in the fence that blocked out Tina’s backyard. A muscle in his jaw jumped, and if the lighting had been better, you would have seen the stain of pink on his cheeks. He shifted from foot to foot, his eyes dropping to the ground before sliding upwards to meet yours.

Billy wasn’t an easy person to read, not if you didn’t know what to look for. He could steel his face into a suave picture of calm and collected, but his eyes said all. It was why, when he looked at you, you knew Alex wasn’t lying. His expression was guarded, but his eyes were saying everything his mouth couldn’t.

“Billy?” you asked breathlessly.

He didn’t respond verbally, merely shifted his weight uncomfortably as another silence settled over the crowd behind you. You could practically feel them all holding their breath, waiting for a climactic end to a juicy love triangle.

Alex, however, wasn’t as patient to wait for Billy to reply, and he laughed cruelly. “Isn’t that right, Billy? You’re in love with my girlfriend.”

Billy was used to being the center of attention, but not like this. Right now, he was humiliated, face engulfed in deep red, and he was looking for a way out that didn’t involve rushing through the crowd. He couldn’t look at you, couldn’t watch when you eventually succumbed to the laughter that Alex was currently choking back, as if the idea of you being interested in Billy was such a huge joke.

And it was, wasn’t it? Someone like Billy was so unfairly undeserving of the light someone like you provided. He hadn’t ever planned on telling you. For one, it’d be unfair to put you in that position when you were seeing someone, and for two, he was so afraid of your inevitable rejection that he just settled for being your friend. Until he fucked that up too because he was too much of a pussy to set his feelings aside. He was too selfish, deciding that if he couldn’t have you the way he wanted, he wouldn’t have you at all to save himself the heartbreak of knowing you’d never want him back.

“Billy….” you whispered again, taking a small step forward towards him, and it seemed to jolt him awake. Without another word or glance at you, or Alex, or anyone, he stormed past you, the crowd parting as he rushed out of the house and out to his car.

Alex, once Billy was gone, the roar of his engine fading as he sped down the street, finally let out the condescending, boisterous laugh he’d been holding back. You, on the other hand, had blocked out everything with Alex’s admission of Billy’s secret and Billy’s nonverbal confirmation. You may not have been as close as you used to be, but you still knew him.

But you had no idea what to do, how to mend your broken friendship. So you settled for your next emotion: anger.

“You’re an asshole, Alex,” you seethed. His peals came to an abrupt halt as he straightened up, the smile dropping from his face immediately. “In case it wasn’t obvious, we’re done. Over. I don’t want to see you again.”

You turned away, aiming to head back into the house, but Alex’s voice made you pause. “Y/N? Y/N, come on, don’t be such a bitch! You’re really going to break up with me over  _Hargrove_?”

You rounded on him so fast he had to take two stumbling steps backwards to avoid having his chin knocked by your head.

“No,” you snarled, driving your finger into his chest as you punctuated every word, “I’m breaking up with you because you’re an asshole, you’re mean when you’re drunk, and you have no regard for anyone’s feelings but your own. You don’t trust me, you don’t  _love_  me, and you certainly don’t deserve me. Especially after that little stunt. Do not come near me. It’s over.”

Low murmurs broke out through the crowd as it parted for you, allowing you free passage through the house and out the front door. Your drive home was spent in silence as you replayed the night’s unexpected turn over and over again. Suddenly Billy’s behavior made sense to you, why he’d pulled away as rapidly as he had. It still hurt like hell, but you understood him and his reasons far better now.

You had to talk to him, had to fix this. You just worried it was unfixable.

But Billy wasn’t at school on Monday. Or Tuesday. Or even Wednesday. The gossip in the halls about the weekend’s events had died down by Tuesday, having been shoved to the backburner when Tina and her hookup of the weekend, Michael King, got into a very heated, very public argument in the hallway. For that, you were thankful. You were growing tired of the lingering looks and curious stares from your classmates.

What took you by surprise was the sudden emptiness you felt with Billy’s absence. Sure, it was there when he’d abruptly and unexpectedly shoved you out of his life, but now, after the discovery of his feelings for you, that hole felt wider, deeper, darker. It felt suffocating, drowning you in a pit of hopelessness and loss. You missed your best friend.

Your mood suffered as a result. Alex had tried to approach you multiple times in the hallways, trying to make amends. At first, you brushed him off silently, until his approaches got so annoying that you snarled at him to leave you be, and from there, your irritability mounted to heights you were unaware it could reach. Is this how Billy felt when he iced you out? Lonely, angry, heartbroken,  _lost_?

The first half of the week passed by at a snail’s pace. Without Alex, and especially without Billy, it felt mundane, like an endless loop of pointless small talk and studying that might never get you anywhere in life. Your friends tried talking to, tried to cheer you up after your very public breakup, but you answered their questions with half-hearted shrugs, and so they stopped trying, and you eventually stopped sitting with them.

Amongst all the chaotic emptiness brewing in your mind, underneath it all was shock. You hadn’t been able to get Billy’s expression out of your head when Alex spilled his deepest secret. No one else would’ve known that Billy had wordlessly admitted that what Alex had accused was true, but you knew Billy, knew his mannerisms and his expressions, and you felt like shit for not knowing what to say at the time other than his name.

Hell, you  _still_  didn’t know what to say to Billy once you saw him again. Darkly, your minded added,  _if_ you ever saw him again.

You and Billy never hung out outside of school, not unless you happened to be in the same place at the same time, so you had no idea where he lived. You couldn’t go to him like you were so desperately wanting to. You couldn’t go to him and tell him you were there, for him, that you wanted your best friend back.

But would he? He’d had something deeply personal outed by your  _boyfriend_  of all people, so would he somehow project his anger and embarrassment onto you? Had you lost him for good?

The pang in your heart at that thought was staggering, and it had you stumbling into the person in front of you. She turned her head to glare at you, and all you could do was mumble a quiet apology. You couldn’t lose Billy. You  _wouldn’t_ lose him.

Thursday morning you were relieved to see his car in the parking lot, and the boy himself was leaning against the hood, smoking a cigarette. You frowned when you took in the figure of Stacy Cartwright tucked into his side, his denim-clad arm thrown over her shoulder. Carol and Tommy stood in front of them, looking like the Royal Quartet of Hawkins High.

Every instinct told you to turn the other way, to not engage him in case it ended in your humiliation, but when your heart pounded painfully at the sound of his laugh, a sound you just now realized you missed more than anything, it forced your feet into moving, and you were standing outside their little circle in seconds.

They were laughing about something, and it came to a stop as first Billy and then everyone else took notice that you were there. Stacy fixed you with a grimace, her big doe eyes trailing your figure with what you assumed was disgust. Tommy and Carol were wearing matching wide and amused smirks at your appearance. You ignored all of them as you took in the proud posture of your former best friend.

“Billy,” you murmured. His face, and his eyes, gave away nothing as he lifted the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply. You staved off a cough when he didn’t bother to blow it away from you. “You’re back.”

He smirked widely, arm tugging Stacy closer into his side. “This one wouldn’t let me out of bed for four days.”

You winced as Stacy giggled up at him, baring her neck to you, and you took in the ring of purple hickies on her pale skin. You weren’t sure why that stung, but it did, and you felt your face flame in humiliation. The toe of your shoe kicked at a rock, and you cleared your throat, ignoring Billy’s comment and the way it churned your stomach.

“I was hoping we could talk? Um….” you muttered, chancing a glance up at him. His eyes were focused on you but they were glazed over. He’d gotten better at hiding his true emotions from you, and that sent another jolt through your system. “If, you know, it isn’t too much trouble.”

Stacy scoffed, inserting herself into the conversation rudely, and placed a hand on Billy’s chest in what was supposed to be a possessive manner. “He ain’t interested, sweetheart. Get lost.”

Your jaw clenched as you gritted your teeth, glaring hard at her. You looked back up at Billy, deflating completely when he simply shrugged and nodded, as if what she’d said was exactly the way he was feeling.

But he caught the way you seemed to curl in on yourself, the light dimming in your eyes and the droop of your shoulders. Inside his stomach was roiling with regret, but he couldn’t take it back, and you simply nodded, resigned and with shining eyes, and turned on your heel. Stacy and Carol immediately began ripping you apart, and it made Billy sick to his stomach both with humiliation and with rage.

Despite the desperate urge to speak to him, you kept your distance from him all day. You dodged his glances, brushed by him with your head down, and overall ignored him. It sucked. But he deserved it for the way he let Stacy walk all over you, and that truth sent his mood spiraling downward faster than a plane on fire.

Your ignoring him had him, in turn, ignoring Stacy. Truth be told, she’d been all over him before Tina’s party, all but throwing herself at him, and after last week, he needed to distract himself from the burning humiliation.

He’d never regretted anything more. Stacy latched onto him like a leech, and while he hadn’t been wrong when he said Stacy kept him in her bed for four days, he was far from proud of it.

He wanted to talk to you, felt words clawing up his throat, but at the last second he chickened out, and you were already gone, back to ignoring him. He was growing tired of this back and forth with you. He hated playing games unless he was the one running the show, and right now, he most definitely wasn’t. The ball was technically in your court, but he was fed up.

His chance came on Friday. The hallway was uncharacteristically empty except for you as you walked out of your last period class, headed for the library to get in some last-minute cramming for a test. Billy had been waiting. He hadn’t forgotten your schedule, had it memorized within the first few weeks of your friendship. He stood outside the classroom, shoulder leaning against the tiled wall and his head tilted back.

You froze when you caught him waiting for you outside the classroom, swallowing down the rising dread as it crept up your throat. A cold sweat broke out on your forehead as your eyes never wavered from his despite the overwhelming urge to look away, turn tail, and not look back. But Billy seemed to have his own gravitational pull, and it lured you in, forced your feet forward until you were standing merely a foot away from him.

He looked tired, you noticed. His eyes were dull, though they sparked to life when he realized you weren’t going to run away, and it made your chest ache. His shoulders straightened from their habitual droop, and he kicked off the wall to close the distance between you by three inches.

“Hi,” he mumbled. Nervousness was becoming an annoying habit of his; Billy never got nervous until you spun his world off its axis.

“Hi,” you whispered back. Part of you was afraid that if you spoke too loudly, he’d disappear like a mirage. But he shifted and you were hit with a wave of his cologne and it made your heart thud with nostalgia. God, you missed him.

“Can….” he paused to swallow, teeth grinding together as his nerves were frayed, “can we talk? Please?”

Your breath rattled as you exhaled, nodding slowly and trying to tamp down the hope blossoming in your chest. Your brain had tricked you into believing that this was the end of your friendship as you knew it. Billy’s posture and expression gave away no hints as to his current state of mind, and it only made you worry more.

Billy looked around, wanting to find a quiet spot to talk both so you couldn’t be interrupted and to avoid the prying ears of your classmates. There was hardly anyone left at the school, but Billy didn’t want to chance it.

“Come take a drive with me?” he asked shyly, chewing on his lower lip. He had his hands in his pockets, the embodiment of nervousness, and for a moment, it threw you for a loop.

“S-Sure. Um, let me just put these back.” You held up your books. Billy nodded and pulled one hand out of his pocket, reached for you before he rethought it, and shoved it back in. Your stomach was fluttering as the two of you walked down the hall to your locker.

Christ, what the hell were you supposed to say to him? Your mind turned itself inside out in an attempt to formulate some kind of conversation starter, but it came up empty. You made a show of spinning the dial on your locker while Billy waited patiently behind you, eyes boring into your back. It made your movements jerky and unsteady, hands shaking as they dropped the books into the locker and closed the door much harder than you were anticipating.

You breathed out deeply and turned to face him. “Okay, we can go.”

Awkward was far too nice a word to describe the silence between you as you walked out of school. The few students who remained turned to regard the two of you curiously, whispering furiously amongst one another. You ignored it as the navy Camaro loomed closer. You reached for the passenger handle at the same time Billy did, your hands bumping clumsily.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” you squeaked at the same time Billy said, “Fuck, sorry.”

You shared awkward, shaky smiles and you let him open your door. When he turned his back you frowned. You had no idea how to act around him anymore, and that made you inexplicably sad. You dropped onto the leather seat with a huff as Billy took his time lighting a cigarette and mentally preparing himself. When he got into the car and closed the door, the small space was suddenly clouded with his cologne. You reveled in it, relaxing back into the seat as his music played at a reasonable volume and he stayed below the speed limit.

He drove the two of you to the outskirts of Hawkins, where the small town blended into rolling farmland. You knew it was where he could really find peace and quiet. He pulled the Camaro off to the side of the road, cut the engine, and got out. You steeled yourself for this inevitable talk and followed suit, coming to stand beside him as he leaned against the hood. His lighter clicked as he lit a cigarette, letting the smoke billow from his mouth for a few seconds before blowing it away and ducking his head.

You weren’t sure if he was going to be the one to start talking, but one question was at the forefront of your mind, and so you asked it before you could stop yourself.

“Is it true?”

He didn’t move, kept his head down and drew the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in his chest. He knew what you were inferring to, and as scared as he was to admit, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. He nodded as he exhaled, wincing when you inhaled sharply.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” It was a dumb question, made even more obvious when Billy scoffed derisively. You scrunched up your face. “Sorry, stupid question.”

More silence ensued, and briefly you felt a pinch of annoyance. Wasn’t he the one who asked to talk? Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“I broke up with Alex. That night.” You pursed your lips, digging the toe of your boot into the gravel idly and wishing,  _praying_  that he would say something, anything.

“Yeah well,” he muttered, cheeks hollowing as he puffed on his cigarette, “he was an asshole anyways.”

“Yeah, he was,” you agreed. You crossed your arms over your chest, an involuntary gesture of self-preservation because you were about to get very vulnerable. “I miss you, Billy.”

He looked at you then, watched as you withdrew into yourself again, eyes cast downward. God, he missed you too, so much it physically hurt. And yet his tongue was like lead in his mouth and he couldn’t say a word. Your eyes met his, the insecurity and vulnerability that was on full display crashing into his chest like a runaway train and it threatened to steal the breath from his lungs.

“I miss you, too,” he choked out, clearing his throat. “I’m….I’m so sorry, for everything. For ignoring you, for Stacy, for….for ruining your relationship.”

“You didn’t,” you hurried to say, straightening up and facing him fully. “Billy, I need you to know that you  _didn’t_  ruin my relationship with Alex. He did that all on his own and to be honest, I’d been thinking about it for a while. I guess I was just prolonging the inevitable.”

“He didn’t know you anyways,” he said offhandedly, but the comment made your heart flutter and race at the same time. You took a small step forward.

“No he didn’t. Not like you do.” They were whispered, but they hit him hard, and his head snapped up to meet your gaze. His blue eyes flitted between yours, searching. You breathed deeply to let your vulnerability show, let him see what you were feeling,  _had_  been feeling for a while.

“I didn’t feel for you the way you felt about me,” you admitted, a pang in your chest when his face fell. “Not at first anyway. If I’m being honest, I think it hit me when you were ignoring me. I wondered why it hurt so much, why I felt like….like I had a piece of me missing, but I let it go. I had Alex and so I focused my attention on keeping my relationship alive. Fat lot of good that did me. So after that night, I felt even worse, because now I didn’t have anyone, but I missed you the most. I felt hollow and sad, all the time, and I didn’t know how to talk to you. I didn’t know where you lived, and I realized that I had no idea what I would even say to you if I saw you again. And then….that thing with Stacy happened, and I felt like my whole world was crashing down, all because I couldn’t get you to talk to me like you used to. And, running with the theme of honesty here, I couldn’t believe that someone like you would feel that way for someone like me. You’re so cool, Billy, way too cool for a town like Hawkins and definitely way too cool for little old me! So I had a hard time coming to terms with that and when I did, I kind of stumbled onto the fact that it was always you, Billy. It should’ve always been. And I feel so goddamn stupid and embarrassed over it because it shouldn’t have taken me so long to realize I’d accidentally fallen for my best friend.”

Billy never stopped looking at you even as you caught your breath, feeling two seconds away from a panic attack over the fact that  _he still hadn’t said anything_.

“Billy, please say something. I, I can’t take it anymore,” you sobbed. When the fuck had you started crying?

Without another word Billy reached out and curled his hand around the back of your neck, tugging you forwards. You stumbled on the uneven ground, collided with his chest clumsily, and balanced yourself with your hands on his chest. You could feel his heart racing, see the love pooling in his eyes and his head dipped down. You rolled up on your toes to meet him, eyes fluttering closed and lips touching softly.

Kissing Billy could become your new favorite pastime, especially when his fingers tangled in your hair and tilted your head to deepen the kiss. You sighed against his mouth and he answered with a groan, his free arm wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him as he leaned against the car. He shivered when the warm wet of your tongue slid across his bottom lip, and he surrendered to you, lips parting so your tongue could enter his mouth.

His body came alive under your kisses, filling him with a warmth he’d never felt before but found he was already addicted to. He was surrounded by everything you—your smell, your touch, your entire being, and he was drunk on it. Every longing glance, every ounce of effort he put into pushing his feelings down, all the tiredness and anger he felt those months, dissolved and it made his heart feel like it could float right out of his chest all because  _you loved him back_. 

That realization nearly made him sob as he wound his other arm around your waist and lifted you off the ground, causing you to squeak into his mouth. He laughed lowly before he dove back in for more. God, he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of kissing you.

When your lungs were burning for air, you pulled away from him, but he kept you pinned to his chest, your feet dangling above the ground. You opened your eyes and smiled down at him, feeling giddy over the sheer love and adoration in his eyes. You were sure you had proverbial hearts in your eyes too.

“Be my girl?” he whispered, his warm breath fanning over your face. Your face warmed underneath a blush and you leaned forward to rest your forehead on his.

“Thought you’d never ask, Hargrove.”


End file.
